No One Mourns The Wicked
by Keiko Noriko
Summary: A story about how Moran and Moriarty met and became close, ending with the events of TRF. Some elements of season 3. Rated M for explicit content (sex, language and murder).
1. Prologue

Irene arched back her back as she felt him thrusting their hips in opposite directions. His eyes were closed, concentrated in the movement, and his head was less than a centimeter away from her breasts. She could feel his warm, heavy breath against them, and there was something lustful and at the same time frustrating in the fact that he never closed the gap between his lips and her hard nipples. His muscles in his arms contracted and relaxed as he pushed himself against her a couple more times before he slowed down and she knew he had come. She looked at him with a pleased smile and pushed him lightly to allow him to lay in bed, which he promptly did. She moved to the side and proceeded to remove his condom. He laid there, apparently completely oblivious to the woman, sweeping the barely existing sweat off of his forehead with his left hand. She looked at him again before getting out of the bed and going to the bathroom.

She came back with a robe and stopped at the bathroom's door to observe him. He was in the exact position, his mind wandering as he stared at probably his own reflection in the mirror.

"If I tell you something can you promise me there will be no retaliation?" she asked softly after a while. He turned his head to look at her as if he had finally realized she was there and shrugged uninterested.

"You fuck like a girl," her voice was smooth, she made sure her words didn't come out accusatory. She knew what could happen if he was ever upset about something, and frequently it was very hard to figure what'd tick him off. She watched his reaction carefully. She saw his eyebrows go slightly up with surprise and then immediately frown in confusion. She watched his tongue lick his lower lip and swallow as he looked at her from down to top. She smiled satisfied. "Well, not that there's anything wrong with that. I like girls, you know…" she moved closer to him and sat in front of him on the edge of the bed. She could see his mind working and was delighted with it, but before she could say anything or get any closer, he turned around and got into the bathroom.

This exchange from a long time before got stuck in his mind and would come up again from time to time. Before that day Jim Moriarty had never really concerned himself with the matter. After all, sex for him had always only been an outlet and people were mere assets for criminal schemes and money. This remained true until the beginning of 2009.

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**A.N.: Hey! It's been so long since I published anything... it's good to be back. So, my friend got me obsessed with Sherlock, especially Moriarty and Tumblr got me obsessed with Moriarty/Moran. So much so that it made me write this story. I'm looking for a beta reader, so if you're interested please PM me. This is my first time writing slash and the first time I publish online something so graphic, so I'm really concerned about how good it is. I'd love to hear your thoughts about it!**


	2. Chapter 1

The night before wasn't so great, it was the second time that month one of his operations had failed and he started to sense a pattern that bothered him. So, when one of his associates woke him up asking him to go meet a client he was less than thrilled to do it, and only accepted because he expected to recover part of the money he had lost. Then again, he thought he could always rid his mind away from his problems and try to have some fun.

He was slightly curious when the car stopped at the hangar and he saw the unusual commotion in the front and in an instant he knew his trip had just gotten a little bit more interesting. The driver opened the car door for him and one of his workers came up to him. Jim got out of the car and adjusted his suit, the worker waited patiently until he was done before greeting his boss and asking him to follow. He didn't ask for any information on the client as he was enjoying the thrill of the unknown. They arrived at Jim's office in the hangar. The worker opened the door and he came in, his eyes scanning the entire room.

He saw, by the way the carpet had been moved that there had been some sort of struggle there, he also saw mud and two sets of footsteps and he knew one of his workers had already gave him a good hiding. He smirked as he knew this meant the man had killed one of them. His grin grew wilder as he saw a tiny spot of blood in the casing. He looked across the room where the client and two of his employees were, one by each side, guns loaded and pointed to the man's head.

"Hi," Jim sang still grinning. The man's face went up, his eyebrows were furrowed, there was a cut on one of them that was recently made, his nose was long and thin like the one of a hawk, his lips were thin and his chin, prominent. But what most caught Jim's attention about him were his electric blue eyes and the way they were locked fiercely on him as he came closer, like a predator would watch his prey. His face was dirty and cut in many places and his wet dark blond hair fell slightly on his face and gave him an even more wild appearance. His arms were strong and muscular and contracted as he continued to offer resistance against the handcuffs tying him on the back. Jim stopped behind the table and rested both hands on the desk as he leaned closer to him and gained a more serious expression.

"Tell me your story," he said quietly "try not to bore me in the process." He returned the stare. As the man said nothing he added "start with the war. Why are you running away from it?"

For a fraction of a second, the man's eyebrow went up, more out of pleasure than surprise. He still said nothing.

"That's why you're here, isn't it?" Jim tried again. He moved away from the desk, his movements got a lot more wide and his voice changed to a falsetto "Oh, Jim, please, help me hide away from the war," he staged theatrically, "Please Jim, the things I've seen, the things I've done…" he even placed his hand dramatically on his forehead. The man started to chuckle and Jim abruptly returned to his original manners.

"I see you must get that a lot," the man said mockingly in a raspy voice and a devious smirk. The man licked his bottom lip as he felt the blood reach his mouth. "I got bored with it," he shrugged "I don't care who wins and frankly, there weren't many challenges."

"Humble," Jim commented unimpressed.

"Yes. Sorry, you're right," the man nodded. "There weren't any," he corrected nonchalantly. "Well, to answer your question, I'd like to propose an exchange of favors… so to speak. You clean up my trail and I offer you my services."

"Now, why exactly would I accept that?" he raised his eyebrows incredulously.

"Because you need it," the man responded in a matter-of-fact tone. Jim crooked his head just a little before moving his eyes to look at the employee with the blood stain in his shirt waiting for an explanation.

"He just killed two of our men," the shooter explained, looking at the man with pure anger. "Bailey is seriously injured and we don't know if he's going to make it either."

"Okay…" Jim nodded lightly, noticing how his employee was baffled by his disinterest. "Show me what you can do," he said to the blond man.

The worker seemed ready to protest but was silenced by Jim's glare. The other worker then went behind the chair to uncuff the man. He lifted the man pulling him through the arm and gave him back his revolver. He was fast. As soon as he gripped the gun he pointed straight at Jim and shoot, immediately after that he gave the revolver back to the worker.

"You missed it," Jim said sounding slightly disappointed.

"Why don't you sleep on it?" the man suggested with a smirk before winking and walking out the room. Jim watched him go before he asked for the employee for the man's gun. He sat at his desk to analyze the gun, a S&W 686 4". He could see the gun was very well maintained, with a small SM carved exactly above the trigger. He opened the barrel and unloaded the gun. He sorted the ammunition and stopped when he noticed there were four bullets left. He frowned and looked at the barrel again and confirming it had six holes. He let out a small interjection of surprise. He looked behind him where the bullet had gone through the wall. He got up and walked to it to see exactly where it had hit his 70s wallpaper. His eyebrows raised and he once more let out a sound of surprise, seeing the small hole exactly over the middle of one of the circles in the pattern. He looked over his shoulder with a smirk and gestured for one of his employees to go after the blond man.

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**A.N.: Hey again! So, this is the real first chapter, as you might have noticed, the first one was just a prologue. I want to thank my best friend who introduced me to this new addiction and supported me to continue writing this story and my boyfriend, who also supports me and watches Sherlock with me (though not nearly as avidly as I) and who helped me greatly describing a gun. Honestly, that part wouldn't make any sense if it weren't for him.**

**I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, considering we finally get to see some interaction between the two of them, and that I was able to portray Jim correctly. I'd love to hear your opinions!**


	3. Chapter 2

His name was Sebastian Moran, a colonel in the war of Afghanistan who was recently reported MIA as it was notified to his father, Lord Augustus Moran, a client from Moriarty's network. He was also noticeable for spending a few years in Myanmar hunting tigers. All the research was done in a matter of a couple hours, and Jim had to admit that even though he had some work to do to make him disappear completely from the face of the earth, the man had done quite a good job by himself. Moriarty still had a lot he needed to know about him, and when he was notified, forty-eight hours later, that Bailey had died, he took it as a perfect opportunity to meet him again.

He called his driver in the next day and asked to be taken to the place where Moran was being held. His employee opened the cell and left them both alone. The blond man was lying on his back on the bench, he was even worse than the time they first met, his wounds were infected and there were a few new ones, too. His nose was definitely broken, and lying like that, he seemed like death.

"Hi," Jim greeted, this time much more serious. "I see you decided to stay," he added sarcastically as he got no response, walking a few steps closer.

"Well, you _were_ very persuasive," the man chuckled staring at the ceiling and feeling the inscription in his dog tag with his right index finger. "But I have to say, the service here could be better."

"You're being served properly," Moriarty replied, shoving his hands in his pockets and getting a little closer again. "I imagine my employees have given you the news," he said analyzing the injuries and cuts in Moran's face.

"Oh, yes, they were effusive about it, too," he nodded and smirked but soon stopped and even seemed a little annoyed "stupid people. So sentimental…" he mumbled.

"Well, we have to somewhat recover the damage you've done, you just killed three great snipers," Jim commented. Sebastian put his feet on the floor and slowly turned around to sit, groaning and panting a lot in the process and pressing his rib cage. "Luckily for me their contracts didn't have life insurance."

"Good. They were good snipers. Not great." He corrected as he finally rested his back against the wall.

"Right, because you're great," Jim scoffed.

"No, I'm nearly perfect," the colonel said under his breath and looked up to catch Jim's reaction.

"Nearly?" Jim repeated mockingly, but at the same time a little upset to think that maybe the constant beating was starting to affect the man's over-confidence.

"The other guy did last forty-eight hours," he shrugged truly disappointed. "That was a faulty move I'm not too proud to admit."

"I've got a present for you," Jim said after a while, putting his left hand behind his suit and pulling Moran's gun and offering it to him with his hand open. The blond man looked at it and looked up at him. The prisoner smirked.

"You can have it," he said and again with a lot of effort, he put his hand under the bench and took another gun from there "I'm good, see?" he showed proudly the pistol to Jim, who raised his eyebrows and smirked back, satisfied with how resourceful this man was turning out to be. "Consider it a little thank you present for our partnership," he added raising his eyebrows, but immediately regretting it as he flinched in pain.

Moriarty watched him suffer for a while. He had always enjoyed this feeling of power, causing pain and despair in people without even touching them, but aside from that, there was something mesmerizing about how Moran took the pain. He never cowered from it, he didn't cry or curse or scream - he took it as part of the process and accepted it as it came. His heavy breathing as he still tried to recover from the effort to sit revealed a lot of his defined abdomen, consequence of the years of his military training. Jim decided he had seen enough, and closing his hand on the gun he put it in the front pocket of his coat.

"Thanks," the blond man said quietly. "When do I start?"

"You're no use for me like that," Jim shook his head. "You're being moved tomorrow. One of my workers will contact you again a few days later with an assignment. How does the West End sound?"

"Like I'm still being punished," the colonel joked. Jim smirked briefly before walking out of the cell. "Bye boss," the blond man called as he watched Jim go and the guard, the same who had been beating him up looked at each of them confused and clearly upset.

Jim looked at the guard, as if daring the man to say something. They stayed like that for some time before the guard gave up and decided to close the gate. Jim grabbed his hand to stop him.

"Get him a doctor. I'll call you later with more instructions," he said incisively at the guard's ear. There was nothing threatening in his words, but the way he said it the guard, Moriarty and even Moran, who watched the scene from his bench, knew there was going to be more from that. The man gulped with fear and nodded quietly before opening the cell and entering it while Jim walked away.

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**A.N.: I don't think I've ever written a story this quickly. Not much to say about this chapter, I'm not sure I'm completely satisfied with it, but it advances the story to the next chapter, where I promise things will start to get a little more heated. As usual, just a friendly reminder that I'd love to hear your opinions on my story so far. I'm really enjoying writing it and the plans I have for it, and will continue to do so, but it's always nice to have an outsider's perspective.**


	4. Chapter 3

He knew he was being tested. He knew he was being tested when he saw the tiny old stinky flat that had been arranged for him. He knew he was being tested when his first assignment was to guard a shipping container that turned out to be holding a collection of vintage suits. He knew he was being tested when his urgent call was to bring tea and scones to the meeting on Friday morning. And he definitely knew he was being tested when his real big mission was to dismember his father's bomb operation planned without Moriarty's consent. He never thought twice before pulling the trigger against his father's snipers.

Still, he hadn't heard directly from Moriarty since their last meeting in the cell and he knew he was being tested for it too. But he didn't care, he knew Moriarty had his reasons and procedures and he waited as patiently as he could. He was sure the process would go painfully slowly and that it would last at least a few months, and judging by how he was still being treated by his co-workers he knew he wasn't even close to be over the trial phase.

So, he had to admit he was more than just a little surprised when, after three months of meaningless tasks he got a call from Jim one night personally summoning his services in a kidnap mission and there weren't enough words in the dictionary to describe how confused he felt when, after asking for directions to go there, he was informed that Jim was already waiting in front of the building. He hung up and stared in blank for a few seconds, wondering if this was a prank call or another one of his tests. He walked to his window and looked down to the street, he saw the black Audi A4 parked outside with Moriarty in the back seat. The consulting criminal looked up and waved childishly, rolling his eyes impatiently one second later. It was enough to convince Sebastian to go down.

He grabbed his bag, always ready to go, locked the door and walked down the stairs as fast as he could, cursing under his breath that he had been arranged an apartment on the eighth floor without a lift. He sighed deeply as he sat by Jim's side, putting the bag between them and placing his hand on top of it. The car soon drove off. Jim stared outside the window without saying a single word for most part of the trip while Sebastian patiently waited for his instructions. They had been driving for almost fifteen minutes when the car pulled over in front of a cemetery.

"Be invisible," were Jim's only words to Sebastian during the entire trip. Sebastian gave one small nod and Jim opened the car's door and left. Moran got out a couple minutes later, doing his best to keep himself in the shadows and out of Moriarty's sight as he followed him, also making sure nobody else was following them. They entered the cemetery and continued to walk, in open space like this it was very hard to be kept unseen all the time, but Sebastian was proud of how well he seemed to be doing. They finally arrived at an empty part of the cemetery, where Moran believed an expansion was happening. He smiled triumphantly once he found a construction fence with a perfect view of everything happening in the open field while still completely covered. From the gunpoint he could clearly see Jim with his hands in his pockets waiting calmly as one man dragged another one, seemingly unconscious, his hands tied on his back and a black bag over his head. The man lied there completely still as his boss and the other man talked. Everything seemed to be working according to plan, but he made a point to also pay attention to the man lying down in case he woke up and they didn't notice.

He couldn't hear what was happening there, nor did he know anything about the operation other than it was a kidnap, most probably of the man tied down. The operation seemed to be almost over after a good half an hour of conversation. Jim shook hands with the man and watched him as he collected the unconscious one from the ground and started to drag him. Jim then turned around and started to walk away, the man dragging the other one and following him from behind. Moran stayed in his position, his gunpoint always locked in one of the two men only as a precaution as everything seemed to be working fine and the process almost over.

Then he saw something strange. He hadn't noticed it before so he didn't know how long this had happened, but the unconscious man's hands were suddenly untied and the man carrying him suddenly seemed to be closing the distance between them and Jim as they approached an area with empty graves.

He had to act fast. There were two of them and as far as he knew, only one of him. Quickly he left his bag in his position and grabbed a knife and a handgun. He then got down and crawled between the graves to where they were heading. He hid behind a tombstone and waited. Fortunately, the first man was so preoccupied paying attention to Jim that they passed Moran without even a glimpse at him. He soon left his position and crawled again around the grave to get behind them. The man with the bag removed the bag from his head and, like Moran, hid in the shadows with a gun ready to shoot while the other one continued to follow Jim, who weirdly didn't seem to notice all the fuss behind him.

Sebastian didn't have much time to think. Once he knew the men's attention were all focused on Moriarty he walked softly and with one precise movement cut the man's throat open. As quiet as his operation was, it was still loud enough to make the other two, only a few meters away, turn around. Before the man could reach for his own gun Sebastian pulled the trigger, the bullet going through his brains and disappearing into the night.

He looked at his boss, who watched him quietly, and apparently indifferent to all that was happening. He had to admit his ego was a little hurt by his lack of reaction, and he began to wonder if he was right after all and this was just one more of his unorthodox tests. Jim crooked his head to look at the man shot and made a disgusted face, looking to the other one whose face was facing the ground. Seeing this, Sebastian decided to turn him, so they could see the face of the man who tried to kill him.

Moran raised his eyebrows and dropped his mouth as he looked at his boss, recognizing the man's face as the guard who had beaten Sebastian everyday during his time in the cell. Jim nodded biting his lower lip from inside.

"Get rid of them. I'll call someone to clean up your mess," the boss said surly. And Sebastian nodded before starting to drag the body to drop it in an empty grave. He tried his best to hide his own frustration at Jim's reticent ways, not explaining anything that was happening and seeming so ungrateful for him having saved his life, even calling his heroic act "his mess".

He did all his work as fast as he could, dropping each man into an empty grave and covering the bodies and his gloves and coat covered in blood in a way it was unnoticeable. He was very throughout in his quest to cover up the evidences.

"Grab your stuff and let's go. They'll be here in two minutes," Jim said once he saw Sebastian done looking for anything he might have left behind. The colonel went back to the fence where he had left his bag and met him at the cemetery's gate where their car was already waiting for them.

Both men entered on each side without saying anything to each other, Jim reassuming his position of quietly staring outside and Sebastian quietly waiting for him to say something. This time he didn't have to wait for so long.

"You did okay," Jim said, only glancing at Sebastian. "Too much blood," he stopped to make a scowl "but overall, you did okay."

Sebastian was satisfied to have his efforts acknowledged, even though part of him he was still bothered by how modest his compliments were. "I liked it," he smirked lightly. "It was definitely an improvement from the other missions," he said looking at him on the corner of his eye to try to catch a reaction. "When do we get to do it again?"

"What was that?" Moriarty asked finally looking straight at the sniper "Puppy is excited? Puppy wants to go out with master again?" he asked with faked enthusiasm. "Well, puppy can't," he said gravely. "Not until puppy is done taking his vaccines, or puppy will have to be put down." He raised his eyebrows looking defiantly at the blond man. "Understand?"

Moran breathed heavily and closed his mouth so tightly his lips disappeared. He glanced at his boss, feeling his anger building but trying his best to control himself.

"'Attaboy," Jim smirked as Sebastian seemed to give up the fight and swallowed his pride. The sniper looked outside and recognized the street of his building and smirked to himself.

"You know what, that's okay," he shrugged and the car stopped at the sidewalk as they arrived. He leaned in closer to Moriarty so he was only a few centimeters away from the consulting criminal's ear and added softly "puppy can wait," he stuck out his tongue and licked lightly the man's jawline. Jim turned to look at him, clearly surprised. Moran smirked before turning and leaving the car. Jim continued to follow him with his eyes as he entered the building. Once he disappeared from sight the consulting criminal looked at the driver, who was already looking at him waiting for instructions.

"What? I said go," he said annoyed. The driver shrugged apologetically before driving off, not wanting to contradict the boss.

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**A.N.: And here I am again! So, I finally decided to get some action going (in both senses). It's also the first time I write something so gory, so please tell me what are your opinions on that, too. I'm really excited for the next chapter and the consequences of Moran's bold move. As usual, I'd love to read your opinions on the story so far.**


	5. Chapter 4

As soon as Moran arrived to the stairs his legs immediately started shaking and his mind ran wildly thinking back everything he had done and picturing different scenarios for the retaliation that was sure to come. He had never been so reckless in his entire life and he couldn't come up with one single excuse for what he did except that he really wanted to. He had been teased and taunted to do something this provocative, and he had to admit that there was something very rousing in the look of surprise in his boss' face, not to mention the very light smell of aftershave in his neck and the warmth and softness of his skin...

Still, he was a dead man. He was sure no one teasingly licked the most dangerous criminal in the world in the face and lived to tell the story, if anybody else had ever been so stupid. It was only a matter of how and when, and Sebastian Moran was never more grateful for that many flights of stairs because he knew once he stopped, reality would hit him even harder and his mind would continue to think about the consequences of what he had done. Eventually, though, he stopped in front of his apartment. He carefully unlocked the door and looked around, half expecting a man sitting at a corner with a gun pointed at him. But, of course, there was no one. He locked the door again and looked around suspiciously. His heart jumped in his chest when he felt his phone vibrating in his pocket. He got it with trembling hands and read the message from one of the other snipers, asking him to be in the hangar on the next day at six in the morning. He held his breath, controlling his urge to call the colleague and ask for more information. Instead, he threw his phone on the bed and dropped his own weight heavily by its side. He looked at the time on the clock on his nightstand and decided not to even try to sleep, since his mind was still wide awake and he'd only get about three hours of sleep.

He arrived earlier than necessary, consciously thinking it was a useless effort to gain a small recognition for his punctuality. The building was practically empty, except for some guards who seemed to never leave the place. He went to the locker room to have a quick shower and changed into his military uniform, and seeing he still had time left, decided to clean up his guns to keep his mind busy. He had been there for at least twenty minutes when he heard soft footsteps approaching and someone entering and locking the door. He stopped one second, knowing it was Jim, but continued to clean up his equipment. Jim stood in front of him observing quietly while the sniper pretended to ignore his presence, but watching him from the corner of his eyes from time to time.

The man had been to war, he had been tortured, he had had guns pointed directly at his head with men yelling in a language he didn't understand, he had been face to face with the wildest and fiercest tigers in the world. Yet, he couldn't say he had been more certain of his death than seeing that insane, short, thin businessman quietly watching him with his hands shoved in his pockets.

X

James Moriarty couldn't concentrate. He kept reliving that moment again and again in his mind. He, teasing the man with such a huge ego beside him; him seeing the man apparently conforming to his response; the man surprisingly smiling and leaning in to whisper in his ear and the man's tongue touching his skin, and finally, the man grinning at him right before he walked out confidently. A chill ran down his spine every time and he was aroused, and it bothered him. Not that there was anything wrong with that, per say.

He never took concern in labeling himself. He knew he liked sex and he generally didn't care from whom or how he got it, as long as it was intense and interesting. And Sebastian had been proving to be both ever since they first met.

Still, he was a subordinate who had to be put in his place and who had defied his authority, in front of another subordinate no less. He decided he had had enough and picked up his phone. He looked at the names in his contacts list before deciding who he'd call.

He decided to drive the next day, knowing that excluding the driver from the mission he had set up on the way home would be a good enough warning. He was even more pleased as he caught the guards' reaction as he arrived and got out of the car from the driver's seat. He entered the hangar without saying a word and walked calmly looking around, observing everything. After he was satisfied with everything he saw he decided he was done making Moran wait. He walked to the locker's room and closed the door behind him. He saw Moran sitting on a bench and stopped about a meter away, shoved his hands in his pockets and watched as he cleaned his gun for a few seconds before deciding what he'd say.

"I want you," he said, his voice coming out deep as he kept his eyes following Moran's up and down hand movements around the cane of the gun. Without even looking at him, the sniper put the gun back in the bag, zipped it, put it over his shoulder and got up.

Jim closed his eyes in annoyance and slowly moved his neck and shoulders to crack them, a reaction that made Moran stop in his position, aware that he had done something that had ticked him off. "I didn't say I want your services," the consulting criminal said irritated, and looked at the sniper with a scowl, but his wide-open pupils as their eyes met told him another story and the blond man soon dropped his bag and without a second hesitation got closer to his boss and pressed their lips together.

The consulting criminal quickly responded cupping the sniper's face in his hands and deepening the kiss, to which the other man replied resting his hands around his waist and pressing their hips closer together. Moriarty tried to embrace him, but found his movements limited by his suit. Moran noticed it, and gently pushing the other man apart began to remove his suit. Moriarty thought about protesting, expecting the man to throw it on the floor, but immediately changed his mind as he saw the other man neatly folding it and resting it on the bench. The blond man turned around again and they resumed their kissing, this time even more intensely as their arousal grew bigger, Moran pressing the consulting criminal against the wall, grabbing the man by his wrists and going to his neck, to the exact spot he had gone a few hours before and this time provoking a small unwilled moan.

This seemed to make Moriarty aware of the other man's control over the situation and resolved this resting his hands against the other one's abs and pushing him firmly to exchange positions. As his boss kissed and bit and sucked his neck, he worked on loosening the other man's tie and unbuttoning his dress shirt. They broke apart for a second; just enough for the sniper to bend down and lick his chest while the other removed the colonel's belt, making him gasp as he felt the firm grip around him. He showed his appreciation turning Jim around and rubbing their hips together as he tried to loosen Jim's pants.

"Oh no, you won't," Moriarty said under his breath and Sebastian worried he could've crossed a line, but was relieved as he saw the man turning around with a mischievous smirk and a square foil packet in his left hand. Moran nodded understandingly, grabbed the pack and put it on the consulting criminal. The blond man bit his boss' lower lip, then his neck, then his right nipple and continued going down until he reached the other man's belly button and teasingly licked his happy trail before reaching his destination.

It didn't take much before he got up again, and the colonel promptly leaned his arms against the wall and allowed the other one access. Jim let the sniper control their rhythm, only occasionally deepening their contact, but mostly concentrating on making the other one moan and shiver as his lips reached all the right spots on his back and his hands grasped firmly on the sniper's defined arms. They both made each other grunt and moan between irregular heavy breaths until Sebastian was the first to become unable to keep his self-control, the consulting criminal following him only a few seconds later and resting against the blond man's back as they both recovered their senses.

Moriarty stood straight as he noticed the man under him bending to up his pants back and they both quietly started the process of composing themselves again.

"You still have to be punished," Jim said pulling his tie back into place as he saw Moran coming back from the toilet. Moran bit his lower lip and sighed but didn't protest.

"Whatever you say, boss," he said softly and smirked.

"You can start now, then," the other man said, apparently ignoring the blond man's innuendo and tilting his head to the side. Moran frowned and looked to where he pointed, slightly confused. It only took him a split second to understand it, though. As he saw the cleaning supplies gathered in a corner. He rolled his eyes, but feeling relieved inside that his punishment was a lot lighter then he previously imagined. He started to walk to get the supplies when he heard Jim cleaning his throat and he turned again to see him. The man simply tilted his head to another direction, Moran looked there and this time groaned as he saw him pointing at what seemed a cleaning apron hung on the other side of the room.

"Make it shine," he said cheerfully as he grabbed his suit, glancing at the sniper from over his shoulder before unlocking the door and letting the other employees in and leaving the place.

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**A.N.: We're finally here! It took so many hours for me to write this that I can't believe how the next chapter pratically wrote itself... I guess once you get past the first time it gets easier? lol**

**I realize this may seem a litte distant, but there's a reason for that, that I hope becomes clearer as the chapters come. Anyway, I'd love to hear your opinions on this story so far. Good or bad, they're always relevant and they make every author's day.**


	6. Chapter 5

As the week went by, small changes were noticed. Some regular faces disappeared and few other new ones were introduced. Moran wasn't that attentive to details and he only noticed this because he had to take care of some of those old faces personally. He figured it had something to do about the events in the cemetery and people who were somehow involved in it, but of course, this was an assumption, since nobody ever explained anything thoroughly. His instructions were being given directly from Moriarty, but they were all very concise and there was never a window for any other subject. He had to admit it was a little upsetting to be left constantly in the dark.

Almost two weeks had passed and things seemed to have gone stable, even starting to feel a little repetitive. He was returning from a regular mission that had ended earlier than he anticipated, so he stopped to buy takeout food before going back home. He stopped in front of his apartment, held the bag on his left hand while his right hand searched for the keys but stopped once he noticed the door was semi-open. Instead of the key, he reached for his gun and pushed the door quietly with his foot entering the apartment slowly. He found the responsible turned on his back, watching outside the window. The person looked over his shoulder and greeted him absent-minded. Moran put down the gun and closed the door behind him trying to act as indifferent as possible to the fact that his boss had just broken into his apartment.

"This place is a dump," he commented turning around as Moran went to the kitchen to put his food on the counter. He looked around and noticed some things in the apartment weren't exactly how they were before he left in the morning.

"You cleaned it up," the sniper replied going back to the living room and still looking all around the small flat.

"I organized it. It wasn't dirty," the other one corrected and sat at the table.

"You know, there's a Freudian term for you," Sebastian said with a smirk and joined him at the table, sitting in front of the consulting criminal who chuckled lightly at the reference, but immediately looked away, as if his mind had wandered someplace else.

"Good job in the locker room," Jim said and Moran raised his eyebrows, wondering whether he was talking about the cleaning or if the double meaning was on purpose. He chose not to say anything. "Did you like it?" the criminal asked as he got no response.

"Yeah," Sebastian said quietly unsure of where the conversation was leading.

"Aren't you going to ask me when we're going to do it again?" Jim asked looking suggestively at the other man.

Moran couldn't believe this was happening again, but instead of letting his mind worry about it, they both kissed and undressed each other on the way to his bedroom.

Sebastian hung Jim's tie and shirt on the chair by the bedroom's door and kicked off his shoes and socks spreading them on the floor while the other one neatly placed his own in front of the nightstand, so by the time they were both in his bed, pants and boxers were the only things in their way. They both sat in the middle of the bed in front of each other on their knees, Jim making the first move and leaning in and biting him on his lips as one of his hands rested on the other man's neck while the other pulled him closer pressing the small of his back. Moran replied with a moan and pulled Moriarty even closer, them both lying in bed with Jim on top. He saw his boss smile briefly before moving to his neck and sucking it lightly while he rocked his hips provocatively as the volume in both their pants grew.

Unwilling to wait for too long, the blond man unfastened their belts and they both removed their pants. Jim placing his along with his boxers folded on the chair while Sebastian reached for the drawers to get what they needed. As he returned to bed, the sniper exchanged positions using his strength grabbing Jim's wrist so that he couldn't move. Moriarty pretended to protest and grunted and tried to struggle his way out of Moran's grasp, but it became very obvious how much he was actually enjoying this competition over power. It took a while before Jim conformed to their current positions and Moran could grab the condom and lube to put it on the consulting criminal.

He sat down on Jim's hips slowly and smirked mischievously as he saw his boss closing his eyes and biting his lower lip in an effort to control himself. Jim gripped him tightly and followed the sniper's back and forth movement, mirroring him in speed and strength. It proved to be extremely arousing to both of them, making Jim come many minutes later. Sebastian moved to the side once he realized his boss was finished and released himself a few seconds later on himself.

As he returned from the bathroom he laid by Jim's side, resting his back against the headboard. He looked at the criminal, who had his eyes closed and breathed deeply.

"Do you mind if I smoke in here?" Moran asked as he leaned to the nightstand to grab the cigarette pack and the lighter.

"Take it outside," Jim ordered frowning at the pack clearly disgusted. Sebastian sighed before getting up, putting his boxers and pants back on before walking out of the bedroom.

He thought about arguing that this was his bedroom and he was just being polite asking for permission, saying that if whatever was happening would continue to happen then he'd have to accept him good and bad, and that meant smoking inside his own apartment as he wished. Instead, he opened the living room window and blew the smoke outside. He was finishing his second cigar when he started to feel his stomach hurt and remembered he had bought food. He threw the cigarette's butt through the window, went to the kitchen and prepared two plates of food before returning to the bedroom.

He found Jim sitting in the bed with his boxers and dress shirt on. His arms were wrapped around his legs with his chin resting on them and staring into space. He looked up as he saw the sniper arriving. Sebastian stopped by the edge of the bed and handed one of the plates to Jim.

"I thought you could be hungry," he explained as Jim grabbed the plate. "Do you want something to drink?"

"Nah, that's okay. Thanks," the consulting criminal answered crossing his legs to put his plate on them. Sebastian then sat by Jim's side and glanced at him while he ate. It was a very different sight seeing him so informal, without the suits and all that polish he looked like a pretty normal person, inoffensive even, and for some reason there was something very exciting about that, as if he was experiencing something only few others had.

"Are you always like this?" Jim asked and Sebastian quickly looked away, realizing he had actually been staring at the man longer than he imagined.

"Like what?" he asked casually taking a bite of his food, though he could feel his face burning red.

"You're very caring, Sebastian," he explained and as he put down his fork, Sebastian handed him a napkin for Jim to clean up his mouth, making his point clear. Moran looked down even more embarrassed. "Are you always this loyal this quickly?" he insisted.

"Well, I'm guessing you have researched about me," Moran said, still staring at his food. Jim confirmed. "Then you must know how I became colonel," he continued and Jim confirmed again. "Well, you didn't think it was weird that I lasted less than six months in the position after having served for so long?"

"You said you were bored. I understand boredom," Jim shrugged and took a bite of his food. Moran bit his lower lip and pondered for a while.

"The truth is the war lost its meaning after he died. I tried for a while... for him... but eventually I realized I had nothing to fight for anymore," he confessed quietly. Jim moved uncomfortably but didn't say anything and they continued to eat in silence.

* * *

**A.N.: Hi again! So, I hope this time the smut feels a little more intimate than in the previous chapter. I'm really enjoying where I'm heading with this story and I'd like to read your opinions on it, too. They're always constructive.**


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